


Stark Naked: Wade Wilson and the Webslinger

by thepinupchemist



Series: Stark Naked Industries [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Porn, Alternate Universe - Porn Stars, Bottom Peter Parker, Bottom Peter Parker/Top Wade Wilson, Cute Wade, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Implied Peter Parker/Bucky Barnes, Implied Wade Wilson/Bruce Banner, Implied Wade Wilson/Thor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn Star Peter Parker, Porn Star Wade Wilson, Protective Tony Stark, Responsible Wade, Sassy Peter, Top Wade Wilson, porn stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 10:59:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13456812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinupchemist/pseuds/thepinupchemist
Summary: Peter is new to this whole porn star thing. Sure, paying off his student loans is great -- but that doesn't make him any less intimidated to meet his new costar, Wade Wilson.Wade Wilson is a wild card. The last thing that Peter expects is for him to be so...well, sweet.





	Stark Naked: Wade Wilson and the Webslinger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leia3771](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leia3771/gifts).



> This is my first spideypool fic, so please be gentle with me. I got this as a request from leia3771 on the first installment in this universe, so I thought I would give it a whirl. Some things of note:
> 
> -Peter is of age  
> -Wade is not 100% scarred, but mostly scarred.

Peter loosened his scarf as soon as he stepped out of the apartment. Aunt May tended to fuss – he was _not_ going to be cold on his way to work.

May did not actually know what he did for work. May thought Peter had a part-time paid internship with a tech company to help pay his way through school, which wasn’t…untrue. Mr. Stark did manufacture technology. So what if that tech was silicone-coated and had sixteen vibration settings?

Peter would never be a fantastic liar, and he decided it would be better to tell his aunt a version of the truth rather than fabricate an entire lie whose details he would have to remember later. He worked at a tech company, the owner’s name was Tony – as far as New York went, that meant that Peter could be working just about anywhere. The only real lie that Peter told was that he had to sign an NDA as a part of his employment paperwork.

Because, in all honesty, Peter could tell anyone he wanted that he’d started starring in porn.

Had starred.

Had starred in one video, so far. He was walking to the subway, which he would take to film his second video.

Mr. Stark thought Peter would ‘mesh well’ with a Stark Naked actor named Wade. As far as Peter could tell through some clever clicking research, Wade had done videos with just about everybody else in the company, and liked sex about any way that he could get it. He’d topped the heck out of that older guy – Hulk? That was his stage name. But then the dude turned around and… _well_. He’d been reamed to high heaven by the Lord of Thunder or Lightning King or whoever that guy was.

Peter was more nervous about screwing Wade than he’d been with the Solider. Or, uh, Bucky. The guy told Peter to call him Bucky. Bucky was a good dude. Very...muscle-y. Kinda snuggly. Great in the whole face-area. As a top, he’d been meticulous and careful and watchful. He told Peter to tell him if he hurt or needed to go slow. Ned poked fun at Peter after the fact (“Ha-ha, you like him!”), but mostly Peter just thought Bucky was a decent dude, which, despite Stark Naked’s impeccable reputation as an ethical pornography conglomerate, Peter hadn’t honestly expected.

Peter couldn’t say what he _had_ expected – maybe he thought he would feel dirty, or maybe he thought he would be getting hurt. He didn’t expect a catered scene shooting, didn’t think his scene partner would be actually affable, and definitely had not believed that the sex would be _good_. But hell, Bucky took care of him.

Ned watching him get screwed was weird, though.

Peter knew, conceptually, that Ned would see him having sex on camera. Ned got him the job. Or, rather, Ned got him an interview with Mr. Stark, who was surprisingly cool about Peter being awkward and terrible at interviewing. Mr. Stark also told Peter to call him Tony, but Peter couldn’t find it in him to treat his boss so casually.

Anyway. His best friend watching him get the business? Weird. Totally weird. But things between them weren’t any weirder than they’d ever been, so maybe Peter was talking himself into feeling strange.

The train was crowded, and Peter hyperaware of each body pressing against his. Irrationally, he felt every gaze that passed over him linger, as though the other commuters could read his mind. They knew he was riding his way to the building that housed Stark Naked Industries, and they knew that he was about to bottom for that batshit crazy guy Wade, who didn’t bother to use a fake name for his porn career, because, as Mr. Stark said, “Wade Wilson is incapable of feeling shame.”

(“That’s rich coming from you,” the lead cameraman, Happy, had muttered under his breath.)

Peter emerged aboveground and stalked across the half-block to set, which lived several stories above street level. When he stepped off the elevator and onto the set floor, Mr. Stark stood mid-conversation with Happy a mere few feet away.

“Peter!” Mr. Stark exclaimed, “You’re early, kiddo. Wade will be late, so you have time to eat, if you want.”

Not-so-secretly, Peter loved that his boss catered filming, and piled a paper plate high with goodies from the deli around the corner from the building: a giant sandwich, two pickles, a bag of chips, a cup of matzo ball soup – and he stuffed a couple of bagels in the pockets of his winter coat for good measure.

“Did you just put bagels in your pockets?”

Peter swiveled on his feet to see Tony Stark, arms folded across his chest and one brow high above the lenses of his tinted glasses. Guiltily, Peter reached into his pocket with his free hand and retrieved one of the bagels, reaching out to return it to its platter.

“No, no, no,” Tony said, uncrossing his arms to wave them, “You don’t need to _put them back_. They’ve already had your little hands all over them, anyway. My question is why you are putting the bagels in your pockets. Are you not eating? What are you doing with the money I paid you to be all twinky on camera? Surely that buys food?”

“Uh,” Peter said, “Paying tuition. I have some scholarships and stuff, but…it’s not all covered, and I don’t want my aunt to worry, so I thought porn? Why not? I like sex! Right? So anyway, I’m still growing, because I’m only eighteen, so like, I need calories, and I don’t want my aunt to overextend herself – and, um, bagels.” He wiggled the bagel in his hand for emphasis.

Mr. Stark kept silent for a long time and then said, “I’m giving you a raise. Use it to feed yourself.” With that, he patted Peter on the shoulder and left him to enjoy his foot-high plate of food.

This, of course, is how Peter met Wade for the first time: his face halfway in a thick sandwich, mustard smeared across his cheek, and crumbs all over his clothes.

“Heya! Aren’t you just cute as a button?”

Peter, mid-bite, replied, “Thanks!” and spat bits of chewed bread and meat onto his jeans.

“Fuck,” Peter said, and spat more.

Wade continued to speak as though Peter hadn’t sprayed food all over himself, saying, “What I’m thinking is that I’m gonna start real slow, you know? Get you all slick and desperate. You’re a skinny thing, aren’t you? Keep working on the sandwich; that should help. But maybe don’t bring the sandwich in the bed. I wouldn’t mind, but man, that Stark and his sheets.”

“Aren’t the sheets gonna get ruined anyway?” Peter asked, though this time, he managed to swallow his food first.

Wade grinned like he’d won the lottery. He agreed, “That’s what I’m saying!”

Though Peter had already gone through this process once already, the nerves were getting the better of him all over again. Bucky followed a predictable pattern of behavior throughout the history of his videos with Stark Naked (and even in the videos from his days as a cam boy; Peter may have gotten overzealous in his research of his first scene partner. Sue him. He wanted to know what he was working with), while Wade couldn’t be placed into any one category.

Wade _baffled_ Peter, even more so now that he stood not two feet away from him.

Instead of speaking, Peter decided finishing his sandwich would be a better option.

“Not a talker, huh?” Wade said, “That’s okay. I can talk enough for the both of us. You’re an easy blusher, you know that, right? I liked that, in your first video, that one with Murder Eyes.”

“Murder Eyes?” Peter couldn’t help but ask.

Wade waved his hand. “You know. Bucky? The Soldier. Real intense guy. Topped you. Topped me once, too. Told me I talk too much. Anyway, are you sure you’re eighteen? You look – young.”

“Pretty sure,” Peter said, “I mean, I was there. On my eighteenth birthday. We had a cake and everything.”

Wade hummed like he didn’t believe him, then shrugged. “All right. Whatever you say, kid.”

“Not a kid,” grumbled Peter, but Wade either hadn’t heard or didn’t care, because he walked off toward one of the changing screens without a single goodbye.

Peter finished eating and downed about twelve breath mints to cancel out his deli-breath. The jitters returned with the realization that he’d been getting screwed on camera within a matter of minutes now. His brain, unhelpfully, supplied Wade’s earlier promise to take the scene slow, to draw everything out and get Peter desperate for orgasm. His dick perked up in his jeans at the suggestion, and Peter might have been annoyed had he not needed that erection for work.

But wait. Bucky worked with this guy. Peter knew Bucky, like, biblically.

And Bucky had given Peter his number after their scene together, with a weird, sort of gruff, “If anyone gives you shit, kid, just text me. I’ll take care of it.”

Peter [12:42 PM]: ???? This fucking guy????

Only instants later, Peter got back a terse _Who is it? I’ll fuck em up._

Peter [12:43 PM]: It’s not bad it’s just

Peter [12:43 PM]: How did you handle working with Wade Wilson?

Bucky [12:44 PM]: Christ

For several long seconds, a bouncing “…” taunted Peter on the screen of his phone. Peter chanced a glance at the changing screen that Wade disappeared behind only a couple minutes before.

As though feeling Peter’s eyes, Wade emerged in his robe…though the robe was not closed. Peter had seen all of Wade Wilson before – of course he had. He promised himself when he signed with Stark Naked that he would research every single one of his costars, and so far, he has. Never mind that he’s only had one costar and is only just about to have his second one.

Scars tracked across Wade’s skin from cheek to leg. Though they did not cover every inch of him, they were huge, and terrifying. Whatever dragged those scars through Wade Wilson would have hurt like hell. Peter wanted to ask, but knew he probably shouldn’t.

Bucky [12:45 PM]: Honestly, just put your dick in his mouth.

Bucky [12:45 PM]: This is the most useful advice I have regarding Wade Wilson.

Bucky [12:45 PM]: It is the only thing that will shut him up.

Bucky [12:46 PM]: That I’ve figured out, anyway.

Bucky [12:46 PM]: Good luck.

Peter pocketed his phone and contemplated Bucky’s advice. He wasn’t sure how he was expected to implement “just put your dick in his mouth”, but perhaps if he asked Wade politely that would work as well. Informed consent, and all that jazz.

Peter changed and stuffed his clothes into his backpack, emerging from behind the screen with his robe tightly secured at his waist, unlike Wade, who flopped back on the set bed with his robe hopelessly open on either side of him. He jerked to sitting when he spotted Peter and let out a low whistle.

“Now _that_ is what I’m talking about,” Wade announced to the room at large. He opened his arms as though offering a hug. Peter, for lack of anything better to do, joined Wade on the set and submitted to a tight embrace.

“You’re tense,” Wade observed, “Are you sure you want to be doing this?” He stared Peter right in the eye, serious-faced as Peter had never seen in any of his videos.

“Uh…I’m sure,” Peter said.

Wade narrowed his eyes. He said, “That didn’t sound very sure.”

“I’m sure,” Peter said with more conviction, “I just get nervous. I wanna do a good job.”

The wicked smile that lit up Wade’s face was everything – it sparked through Peter like electricity, animated him, drew all his focus to a single point in the universe: the man next to him. Wade pecked a kiss to the center of Peter’s forehead and promised, “Don’t worry, Petey. You’ll do just fine.”

And, because Peter was incurably awkward, he blurted, “Bucky says I should put my dick in your mouth.” He clapped his hand over his mouth not a moment later, heat rushing to his cheeks.

Wade, however, didn’t bat a lash. His smile, if anything, widened, and he said, “Sometimes Murder Eyes has ideas that aren’t half bad. You should _definitely_ do that. In fact, why don’t you do that while I get you all open and ready, huh? That’ll be a hell of a trick for the cameras.”

Peter flushed ever-redder.

And Wade, naturally, whispered, “Just keep on blushing pretty like that, and we’ve got ourselves a best seller.”

A shiver coursed down Peter’s spine. He’d liked working with Bucky, but holy crap, there was something next level about Wade Wilson that hooked right under his skin and drew him in closer.

But of course reality had to come careening back into him when Happy yelled, “Okay, playtime is over. Let’s get to work.”

With a catch in his breath and the skip of a heartbeat, Peter pulled his robe free. He chewed on his lip as Wade looked him up and down and drank him in. A too-long silence passed before Wade said, “Damn. Your first video did not do you justice, kiddo. Now _that_ is an ass that won’t quit.”

Peter glanced over his shoulder at his ass and back to Wade again, which was all he had time to do before Wade hauled Peter up by the backs of his thighs, scarred skin tightening over shifting muscle as he deposited Peter on his face. Without a word of warning, he sucked Peter’s half-hard cock into his mouth.

A surprised, filthy noise made it out of Peter’s throat at the contact. Wade’s mouth was hot and wet around him, and…wow. Whoa. This was the best blowjob of his life. That’s what was happening here. The actual best blowjob he had had the honor of experiencing. Peter moaned and thrust his hands into Wade’s short hair. Wade hummed in approval around his cock, just a moment before pulling away.

Wade snapped his fingers at one of the set assistants and said, “Lube me, Weasel.”

“Do you have to say it like that?” Weasel muttered, but threw open the drawer to Wade’s left and tossed a fresh tube of lubricant into his waiting hand.

“Doing okay, kid?” Wade asked, bouncing his brows.

Peter groaned and complained, “Don’t call me kid when we’re about to have sex. It’s like, the anti-sexy. But yes, I’m fine.”

“Baby?” Wade suggested, “Babydoll? Babycakes? Honeybunch?”

Peter rolled his eyes so hard at Wade’s final suggestion that a startled laugh exploded from Wade’s chest. He said, “Fine, fine. We’ll stick with the classics, baby. I’m gonna open you up now, all right?”

With gusto, Wade lapped at Peter’s erection, the sensation good, but not enough to distract Peter from the fingers wandering down between his cheeks, stroking and seeking – though Peter suspected Wade knew exactly what to do and was teasing because he was a pain in the ass.

One thick finger breached Peter’s hole just as Wade swallowed around the length of his cock. Peter keened out a broken sound. He didn’t expect the sex to be so good. He’d expected something wild, something unpredictable – but Wade kept telling him word for word what he planned to do. He never spoke loud enough for the camera to pick up, just soft, words only for Peter’s ears.

“I’m gonna put another finger inside you, okay, baby?”

“I wanna take a bite right out of your hip. Can I do it?”

“One more finger. I know you can do it.”

Too soon and not fast enough, Wade sheathed three clever fingers inside Peter’s body, massaging against his prostate as his mouth continued to suck and hum around the length of Peter’s cock. Peter bounced back on the fingers and further against the wet heat of Wade’s tongue, pleasure washing up against him in shocking waves.

Usually, Peter didn’t like being out of control.

Usually.

But now, Peter was helpless to the sensation. He rode into it, gasping, babbling at Wade in words he didn’t stop to dissect.

“Are you ready for my cock, baby?”

This, Wade said loud enough for the cameras. He said the words in a low, rumbling, sultry voice.

Peter nodded, unable to think of a snappy response. Again, Wade hauled Peter up by the backs of his thighs, but this time, he guided Peter to sit in his lap while he lubed up. Then, he pressed kisses into the column of Peter’s throat, whispered, “I’m goin’ in,” and started to push inside.

“You’re not funny,” Peter whispered back, right into Wade’s mouth.

“I’m fucking hilarious,” Wade said against his lips, and yanked Peter into a fully-body, scorching kiss as he thrust all the way inside.

Peter ducked out of the kiss for just long enough to murmur, “My name’s not ‘hilarious’,” and dove back in for another taste before Wade decided to say something clever.

In retaliation, Wade gripped Peter’s ass in each of his hands and fucked up into him. He set a relentless pace, so fast that Peter couldn’t catch his breath. He could only hold onto Wade’s shoulders (one scarred, one clear and freckled) as Wade pounded into his body from below. The ecstasy twisted through Peter’s body, pulling his stomach into knots of pleasure.

“You wanna come like this?” Wade asked.

Peter tried not to squint at him in confusion. This was being filmed, for fuck’s sake.

“With you dick in me?” he asked.

Wade laughed breathily and said, “No, baby. On top of me.”

“That’d be a pretty boring video,” Peter told him, “One position? Come on. I know you’re better than that. I watched your videos. Bring it on.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Wade replied.

In the next second, Wade pulled out, threw Peter belly-down on the mattress, hitched up his ass, and tore into him again. Wade cupped the fronts of Peter’s thighs for leverage, holding his legs mid-air, and pounded into him.

Peter gripped the sheets beneath him and let it happen. Damn, this was good. He hovered on the edge of orgasm, wondering if Wade would ever touch him again or if he’d get all toppy and tell Peter to come on his cock.

Turned out, when Peter pleaded, “Touch me,” that Wade was more than willing to listen.

“You got it, baby,” Wade said, and took Peter’s cock in hand.

He stroked against the tempo of his thrusts, and all too soon, it was over for Peter. He cried out, hands slipping across the sheets as he searched desperately for purchase, and he came into Wade’s palm, his entire body seizing with the onslaught of pure bliss.

“God, you’re beautiful when you come,” Wade told him. He petted Peter’s head, then redoubled his thrusting effort. Only the breathless note to his words betrayed how far gone he was, and something about that made Peter feel powerful. He pressed his ass up, fisting the sheets, and rolled back to meet each of Wade’s movements with one of his own.

The sound of skin smacking against skin echoed in the studio. Peter had only a moment to dwell on it before Wade groaned and came. He pulled out and yanked Peter into his lap.

“Look how pretty he is,” Wade said to the camera.

“Fuck you,” Peter half-heartedly said into Wade’s shoulder.

“I would love to try that,” Wade said, “Getting pounded by a little twink? Sounds fantastic. I mean it, Petey.”

Honestly? Peter believed him.

**

Wade picked up and left the shoot in a hurry, it turned out. By the time that Peter showered in the off-set locker room (that no one used but him, apparently) and redressed in his clothing from earlier (including the bagels he’d stuffed in his pockets), Wade vanished, gone as though he’d never even been there.

Peter barely had time to feel bummed that he didn’t at least get Wade’s number before Mr. Stark appeared – _out of nowhere –_ and said, “Peter, my little protégé, come have a chat.” He draped an arm over Peter’s narrow shoulders and guided him toward the on-set office.

And if that didn’t just get the anxiety pumping.

“Have a seat,” Mr. Stark said, and made himself comfortable on the other side of the desk – doing so far as to prop his feet up on a stack of paperwork.

“Um,” Peter managed, “What is this about? I thought – I thought the video went pretty well.”

“You did an excellent job,” Mr. Stark waved him off, “Mr. Wilson just told me that you were nervous beforehand. I wanted to chat with you, see if there was anything we could do to help you feel more at home.”

“More at home?” Peter echoed.

“Yeah. Stark Naked is like – well, not like a family, I suppose, because then that sounds too much like incest and I’m really not into that. But we’re something non-incestuous but emotionally close. Are you following?”

“Not really,” Peter said.

Tony let his feet fall from the desk and leaned forward in his chair. He said, “I mean that we care about each other. Or I care about you, or something. If you’re uncomfortable, then I’m not doing my job right. So. That being said. Help me make it better.”

“You don’t have to do that, Mr. Stark,” started Peter.

“Oh, but I do,” Mr. Stark replied.

“I get nervous about everything,” Peter said, “It’s – you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna do that anyway,” Mr. Stark told him, “I’ll take you at your word, okay? But don’t you talk yourself out of talking to me if you need something. You got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good. Great. You have yourself a wonderful evening, Mr. Parker,” Tony went on, “and use your raise to eat, okay? I really don’t approve of starving employees.”

At that, Peter grinned.

“You got it, Mr. Stark,” he agreed.


End file.
